


Sleep Perchance

by zombiekittiez



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Reality, Coma, Dreamscapes, Fix-It, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Rewrite, Sort of Post Series, bedtime story, kind of a time loop, not actually curtis/shiro, very light angst, very sheith I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:42:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25926076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiekittiez/pseuds/zombiekittiez
Summary: “Must be,” Keith says agreeably. “Hey, I don’t have my datapad on me. What day is it? It’s hard to keep track, space to Earth time.”“Probably Tuesday,” Shiro laughs. Keith raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, just a private joke- it seems like every time I ask, it’s Tuesday. I must still be on space time too.”“Shiro.” Keith stops him, suddenly serious. “Do you ever feel… wrong?”Shiro frowns. “Wrong? What do you mean?” Almost unconsciously, Shiro’s Altean arm moves up to his opposite shoulder, fingers digging painfully into the joint.~~Or, Keith, Shiro, and a lovely little nightmare.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 170





	Sleep Perchance

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno why I am so obsessed with recursion and time loops lately.

It was always the becoming he dreamed of, never the being.  
_This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald_

~~

Time is relative. Shiro knows that. E equals mc squared. An object in motion experiences time dilation. It slows, seems to stop compared to an object at rest.

Before, when he was clawing his way up through the Garrison ranks, pushing himself to be smarter, faster, _stronger-_ there had been time, still. Adam hadn’t understood, but then Shiro hadn’t understood Adam either. So.

Space had been beautiful. Perfect. Shiro had stood on the surface of a planet no human had ever been to before, staring at stars that felt, for once, within his reach. And he’d known in that moment that he’d been right to break things off with Adam because he’d never been happier than out there alone, in all the time they’d been together. If love was in the cards for Shiro, it was going to have to feel like this. Like stars in the palms of his hands. Like a lifelong dream. 

He wonders when, exactly, he stopped moving. 

~~

“What day is it?” Shiro murmurs when Curtis brings him coffee in bed. 

Curtis laughs. “It’s Tuesday.” 

Shiro is too chagrined to admit that the answer isn’t nearly descriptive enough. 

“Leaving already?” Shiro asks, noticing that Curtis is fully dressed, uniform neatly pressed. 

“Gotta bring that bacon,” Curtis winks. “I’ll be home for dinner.”

“Am I cooking?” Shiro asks.

“Please don’t.”

They laugh pleasantly. Curtis presses a kiss against the top of Shiro’s head and then he goes. 

Shiro takes his time getting up. He isn’t on schedule anymore, and the room is pleasant and bright. The steel framed picture window takes up nearly the entire wall opposite, and Shiro settles into the window seat there, looking out across the mountain view. The sky is so blue. It really is just like a painting. The bedroom itself is lovely too, lots of natural light and a yellow accent wall behind the canopy bed. It is exactly the bedroom he’d seen once, flipping through a home and garden magazine in some nameless doctor’s waiting room as a teenager, when he swore to himself that he _would_ get into the Garrison, he _would_ fly out to space, and he _would_ have a craftsman style two story house, with an attic and a basement and a bedroom just like this, one day. 

And here he is. Retired admiral, pilot, paladin, and space explorer. He did it. 

He did it. 

~~

It had seemed like a heartbeat, a single blink of his now-white eyelashes and time passed, flowed, flooded. Returning to earth. The Coalition. Atlas. 

And then they scattered. Allura was just the first to go. 

Shiro would be always be the last. 

~~

“How was your day?” Shiro asks solicitously over dinner. 

“Same old, same old.” Curtis smiles. “I missed you.” 

Shiro smiles back warmly. “Any plans this week?” 

“Just to spend time with you,” Curtis answers perfectly. “You seem tired. Are you tired? You should head to bed early.” 

“I am, a little.” Shiro admits. “I can’t think why. All I did was laze around today.” 

“It’s good to take a rest. I’ll be up a little longer- paperwork. I’ll come to bed in a bit.” Curtis kisses him on the cheek and takes up their plates to the sink. 

“I can do that,” Shiro protests half-heartedly. 

“Next time,” Curtis promises. 

“You’re the best.” Shiro sighs, stretches, and heads to bed. 

~~

“Everything okay?” Curtis asks. Shiro is frowning at his coffee, which is perfectly brewed with just the right amount of real cream and real sugar. 

“Of course,” Shiro answers automatically. When he looks up, Curtis settles on the edge of the bed. “Don’t mind me, you’ll be late,” he protests. 

“The Garrison will manage without me another fifteen minutes or so, I’m sure. You’re the most important thing in the world to me, Takashi.” Curtis slips an arm around his shoulders. Heartened, Shiro takes another sip of coffee. It grounds him. “What’s on your mind?”

“I guess I just miss the others. Which is silly, I know, they have their own lives now, but…” He trails off. 

Curtis makes a soothing sound in the back of his throat. “It’s natural to feel like that. You’re practically family, after everything. But it won’t be long until the next anniversary meet-up and you can all take your time catching up then.” 

“You’re right. Just another few months, isn’t it?” Shiro nods to himself. “Isn’t it? What day is it?” 

Curtis rises, straightening his jacket now that the crisis is averted. He takes Shiro’s empty mug with him to deposit in the kitchen on the way out. 

“It’s Tuesday, isn’t it?”

~~

Shiro is happy. He knows he’s happy, it’s just- 

He feels like a stray, scooped up and cleaned up, given shots and set at home to be a housecat. He’s grateful and content and cozy warm, it’s just- 

This is happy, isn’t it? 

He’s sure it is. 

~~

Three sharp raps on the door as soon as Curtis leaves. Shiro assumes he’s forgotten something and opens the door without a second thought. 

It’s not Curtis, though. 

“Keith…” Shiro breathes, eyes wide. Keith, looking back at him, seems nearly as shocked himself, but he recovers more quickly, straightening up. 

“It’s me,” Keith agrees weakly. Shiro steps forward to pull him into a hug and Keith shifts very slightly back. Shiro pauses, then settles for a friendly hand on Keith’s shoulder instead. Familiar territory. 

“It’s good to see you. Is everything okay?” 

Keith huffs a little laugh, like Shiro has asked something patently ridiculous. 

“You cut your hair again. I was liking it long.” Shiro says casually, taking a moment to study the other man. Keith seems uncomfortable, and his expression is that mix of neutrality and frustration that Keith used to wear all the time, before he grew into himself. 

“Yeah?” Keith asks roughly, his fingers coming up to tug lightly at his messy bangs almost unconsciously. 

“This is nice too,” Shiro assures him. “That’s the Keith I remember.” 

Keith recoils at his words as if he’s been slapped. He steps backwards and loses his balance, nearly tumbles off the stairs. Shiro catches him, arms holding him up. 

“Hey! Hey… come on, sit down. You’re scaring me.” Shiro tries for a smile but it’s a weak and washed out thing that drops almost immediately. Shiro steers Keith to the living room and settles him on the couch. He drops down onto his heels to look up at Keith with concern. “What’s going on?” 

Keith has his eyes squeezed shut, head between his knees a moment. Then he exhales in a rush and sits up, expression fixed. “Nothing. I’m fine.” 

Shiro reaches for his hand to check his pulse and Keith flinches. “Like hell. Look at that. Are you afraid of me?” 

“No! No, I just…” Keith practically shoves his wrist at Shiro then and Shiro checks him over. His color is fine, and his pulse and temperature are in the acceptable range. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me here.” Keith mutters. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Shiro’s brow furrows. “I know you haven’t had the grand tour yet, but I hope you know that you’re always welcome here. Curtis and I would love to have you over any time.” 

“Curtis,” Keith repeats, turning the name over in his mouth like a foreign thing. 

“Well, yeah.” Shiro smiles encouragingly. “I never would have married someone who didn’t understand how important you and the others are to me.” 

Keith’s breath hitches, eyes wide. Really, he should know. 

“You’re my brother too,” Shiro tells him gently. 

Keith relaxes in increments, fractionally, shoulders dropping back to neutral and breath evening out. Shiro brings him a glass of ice water. Keith thanks him, then sets it untouched on the coffee table. 

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Shiro tells him. “But I’m here if you want a listening ear.” 

“Am I keeping you from anything?” Keith asks cautiously. “I just kind of showed up.”

“Not at all. Curtis is at work, and I’m not good for much these days. Not like the rest of you guys.” 

“Oh?” Keith asks, expression flat. 

“Lance has the farm and Matt and Pidge are busy being mad scientists. Hunk’s got his cooking-across-the-galaxy plan, and your work with the Blades is so important.” Shiro beams at him. “I always knew you’d do great things. You’re really making a difference.” 

“It’s nothing special,” Keith ducks his head in embarrassment. 

“You’re feeding hungry planets, stabilizing governments… humanitarian work really suits you.” Shiro argues. Then he falters. “Ah, wait. This isn’t… are you and Acxa having trouble? Maybe it’s none of my business, but…” 

Keith stares at him a beat too long. “Acxa.” 

“Acxa.” Shiro repeats. 

“Lotor’s Acxa.” 

Shiro frowns. “That was a long time ago, Keith. I didn’t mean to pry, I just thought…” 

Keith stops him. “No, you’re fine. And Acxa is… fine. Probably.” Keith shakes his head a little. “Acxa,” he mutters. “So that’s what you thought should happen.” 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Shiro says, bewildered. 

“You haven’t,” Keith assures him. 

“You are upset, though.” Shiro notes. 

“Maybe.” Keith allows, flashing a quick little smile, and that’s when it hits Shiro.

This Keith hasn’t been smiling. 

Ever since everything, the Keith he knows smiles. That warm little shy smile, easy and often, the one that he used to only show Shiro, and then only sometimes. But then he’d been happy and the war had ended and that had just been… Keith. Space hero Keith, with the braid and the smile. 

But this Keith is different now.

...this Keith? 

Shiro feels a slight twinge in his side. 

“Shiro?” Keith is on his feet suddenly, and they’ve switched positions. Now Keith is the one setting him down carefully. Shiro’s hand is on his ribs. A sharp little ache there. 

“Just a cramp,” Shiro says, surprised. “I haven’t felt anything like that for a really long time. It’s probably just old age, catching up with me.” 

Keith watches him then, eyes strangely sad. “Sometimes it takes a while,” he agrees. 

~~

It’s embarrassing but Shiro tires early and the pain doesn’t go away. Keith notices- he always notices. Then Keith loops an easy arm around Shiro’s waist and helps him back to the bedroom, eyes roaming over the house with great interest as they pass through. He sets Shiro on the bed. 

“I’m a terrible host,” Shiro says apologetically. “I’m out of practice.” 

“Don’t get many visitors?” Keith asks politely. His attention is on a framed photo on the bedside table. He picks it up and studies it; it’s from Shiro and Curtis’ wedding, the four paladins behind the happy kissing couple, all dressed in white. 

“You could say that. Can’t remember the last time I saw anyone.” 

“Besides Curtis.”

“Right,” Shiro agrees. Keith puts the photo back on the table. 

“How did you two meet again?” Keith asks casually. “Who proposed?” 

“Well, we knew each other back at the Garrison, but that was a long time ago. We weren’t really friends or anything, just shared a few lecture courses before the tracks diverged. We didn’t really get to know each other until we were both on the Atlas.” 

“Atlas,” Keith repeats. “Atlas... ship?”

“When she’s not a giant fighting robot, yeah. That was before the fusion with Voltron and… and everything, at the end. It’s funny... I can’t really remember who asked who.” Shiro blinks sleepily. 

“You’re worn out,” Keith says worriedly. “That’s probably my fault. It’s the stress.” 

“No, you’re not- I want to see you. It’s been too long,” Shiro explains, fighting unconsciousness. 

“Has it? Do we not see each other a lot?” Keith asks. 

“Busy,” Shiro explains. “Not since Allura’s memorial.” 

“Allura’s memorial? From when she _died_?” Keith’s voice is sharp enough that Shiro half sits up. 

“Yeah. The yearly memorial with everyone. It’s coming up soon, isn’t it? But I’m glad you came separate to see me. Curtis is great, but I.. I missed you guys. I missed _you._ ” 

“Maybe it was too much to expect, for this to work. I had to try, though.” Keith stands. 

“Are you leaving?” Shiro asks, sounding more than a little pathetic. 

“I have to. People are waiting for me.” Keith looks back down at him, a determined glint in his eye. “But I’ll come back. And when I do… " He steels himself, as though ready to take a blow. "Tell me about the proposal. I want the whole story.” 

Shiro nods and Keith is gone. 

He sleeps.

~~

_”He’s stopped fighting it. If he doesn’t decide it on his own, it won’t happen. He’ll just stay like this indefinitely.”_

_”Why though? Why was it like that?”_

_”I guess you’ll just have to keep trying until you figure it out.”_

_”Of course. That’s a given.”_

~~

“Takashi?” Curtis sounds concerned. “Are you not feeling well? You’ve hardly touched your food.” 

Shiro starts, then looks down. His plate is more than half full. Pot roast and mac and cheese. His favorite. He picks up his fork. 

“Sorry, I was distracted. Keith…” Shiro trails off. There’s no reason _not_ to tell Curtis that Keith was here, but suddenly he feels uncertain of himself. Had it really happened? It seems so unlikely that Keith would come by for a scant ten minute visit. They don’t even live close to the base anymore. He’d decided on that with the house. Someplace near the mountains, someplace away from the Garrison. He didn’t care about the rest. 

“Keith?” Curtis prompts. 

“I was thinking of sending him a message,” Shiro lies. “Because it’s nearly his birthday.” 

Curtis nods. “That’s a nice thought. I’m sure he and Acxa will like that. Don’t expect a response right away, though- you know how spotty communications can get over those distances.” 

Shiro nods absently. 

Lotor’s Acxa.

Keith’s Acxa? 

“When you asked me to marry you,” Shiro says impulsively, “did you plan it out?” 

Curtis laughs. “I just knew I had to spend the rest of my life with you. Did you wish it was a little more elaborate? We didn’t even get it on video.” 

“No, it was perfect,” Shiro decides. “However it happened.” 

~~

Shiro goes shopping. Well, he has to leave the house sometimes, doesn’t he? It’s nice. The good grocery store is an extra ten minute drive, but they always have the cereal he likes in stock. He puts one box into his cart. 

“Just the one?” 

Shiro looks up sharply. Keith holds two more boxes, one in each hand. He scrutinizes the labels. 

“Keith!” Shiro feels a full body shiver at seeing him. Utter, unsinkable delight. He doesn’t even care that Keith’s found him in the grocery store. Or more like how. When? Why? Doesn’t matter. That’s Keith’s little eyebrow tilt and messy bangs. 

“How much sugar in these? I’m having a hard time reading the label.” Keith shoves the box at Shiro who makes a face. 

“Too damn much. 12 grams per serving, I think. I memorized it out of sheer horror.” Shiro glances at the label anyway to check himself. “Huh. You’re right. It’s too blurry to read. They must have printed it up wrong.” 

Keith is still watching him so Shiro sticks out his tongue playfully and puts both extra boxes into his cart. Keith looks over the rest of his cart’s contents judgmentally. 

“You still put chocolate syrup on top?” Keith asks with a shudder. 

“There is literally no other way to eat them,” Shiro deadpans. “What are you doing in the grocery store? I messaged you the other day and Acxa wrote back that you two were in the far Gamma quadrant.” 

“Yeah? Must have been a delay.” Keith says smoothly. “She answers your messages a lot for me?” 

“I guess. That’s normal, right?” 

“Must be,” Keith says agreeably. “Hey, I don’t have my datapad on me. What day is it? It’s hard to keep track, space to Earth time.” 

“Probably Tuesday,” Shiro laughs. Keith raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, just a private joke- it seems like every time I ask, it’s Tuesday. I must still be on space time too.” 

“Shiro.” Keith stops him, suddenly serious. “Do you ever feel… wrong?” 

Shiro frowns. “Wrong? What do you mean?” Almost unconsciously, Shiro’s Altean arm moves up to his opposite shoulder, fingers digging into the joint. 

“Does your arm hurt?” Keith asks suddenly. 

“What? Oh, ah. I guess so. I hadn’t noticed. It’s-” Shiro breaks off mid-word. What had been a mild ache flares. It’s a burning, twisting sort of pain and he retches a little reflexively, saliva pooling at the unexpected feeling. 

“Okay, easy.” Keith helps him move away, clears a spot among a display of oranges and settles Shiro on a crate. “I hate hurting you,” Keith says, scowling. 

“What? No, this is- coincidence.” Shiro wheezes, suddenly panic stricken that Keith might want to leave. “I want to see you.” 

“Do you?” Keith asks suddenly, pained. “Is that why we see each other once a year?” 

Shiro winces, then thumps his prosthetic against the joint hard, twice. Keith starts at the rough treatment but Shiro knows his body and the distracting sensation helps him focus around the pain. 

He’s had worse. 

He is worse? 

“You’re all happy,” Shiro explains. “It’s okay that we all went our separate ways. People can’t be together _forever._ You all have a purpose and this is the happily ever after part, right?” 

“Is it?” Keith asks. “I feel like all I can do is push, but Jesus, Shiro, are you _happy?_ ” 

The pain spreads across, to the top of his other shoulder, where it connects to his prosthetic, like it did when- 

“I’m fine, Keith. I’m married. I’m fine. I’m happy,” Shiro repeats. “I just wish I got to see you more, that’s all.” 

Keith stands abruptly. “Alright,” he says, eyes dull. “Fine.” 

“Wait. Are you mad? Don’t-” Shiro tries to reach out but a spasm makes him double over. 

“It’s okay, it’ll stop hurting soon.” Keith says not unkindly. “I have to go.” 

“Why?” Shiro asks, wildly confused. 

“Because it’s your turn,” Keith explains. “Come and find me, Shiro.” 

And he’s gone. 

The pain is too.

~~

“How was your day?” Shiro asks automatically over dinner. 

“Oh you know,” Curtis smiles. “Better now. I missed you.” 

Shiro smiles back weakly. “I saw Keith today.” 

Curtis tilts his head to the side. “You mean you saw someone who looks like Keith today,” he corrects. “You know Keith is shipside in Gamma Q.” 

“What if I did see him,” Shiro asks. “What if I just… ran into him in the grocery store.” 

“That’s not likely, is it?” Curtis laughs affectionately. “I mean he’s the Black Paladin, Leader of Voltron and the Blades of Marmora. People like that aren’t like us.” 

“What’s that mean?” Shiro’s mouth feels dry so he takes a sip of water. It doesn’t help, somehow. 

“Well they don’t buy their own groceries, for one thing. They don’t settle into craftsman two story houses with grey-gold decor and a mountain view. That’s us, Takashi.” Curtis boops his nose as he collects their plates and heads to the sink. “But it’s nice that you’re thinking about your friends. You seem tired. Are you tired? You should head to bed early.” 

“I am, a little.” Shiro admits. “I can’t think why. All I did was go to the store and then laze around.” 

“It’s good to take a rest. I’ll be up a little longer- paperwork. I’ll come to bed in a bit.” 

“I’ll wait for you,” Shiro protests. “I want to spend time with you.” 

“That’s so sweet. It really will be a while, though. Tell you what, you can go ahead and get into bed. If you’re still up when I come in, then we can snuggle.” 

“I probably won’t make it,” Shiro admits. “Raincheck, then?”

“Next time,” Curtis promises. 

“You’re the best.” Shiro sighs, stretches, and heads to bed. 

~~

If Voltron taught Shiro anything, it’s that reality is infinitely strange. Many things can be simultaneously true and false, possible and past correction. People died and came back. People died and stayed dead. 

Ever since his connection with Black was severed, he’d been preparing himself for this. Hell, even before, when he was trapped inside, seeing Keith and Lance and knowing that it would be alright. They’d figure out about the clone and about Haggar and Lotor and everything. They didn’t need him anymore. 

This is the happily ever after part. 

~~

_”Is that the best you can do?”_

_“We can’t chance more than three dives. It’s too hard on her.”_

_”So it’s up to him now?“_

_”I think it’ll be okay. He’s never let me down yet.”_

~~

“You have your thinking face on,” Curtis says, handing him his coffee. “You know that you can tell me if something is bothering you?” 

“Can I?” Shiro jokes, but it comes out a little earnest. Curtis sits. “Won’t you be late for work?” 

“The Garrison will manage without me another fifteen minutes or so, I’m sure. You’re the most important thing in the world to me, Takashi.” Curtis slips an arm around his shoulders. Uneasily, Shiro takes another sip from his mug. The coffee doesn’t taste much like anything, when he thinks about it. 

Curtis doesn’t look like he fits, really, in this room. It’s catalogue perfect, and Curtis is always perfectly dressed, but it’s like two images superimposed. Like his life is a copy paste collage of ideas and images that don’t- quite- 

A sharpness at his temple. He refrains from reaching up only by clutching the mug tightly in his human hand. 

“Do you ever feel... wrong?” 

“Wrong?” Curtis frowns. “No, sweetheart. Nothing has felt wrong since the day you proposed.” 

The hair on the back of Shiro’s neck stands on end. He struggles to speak, around the pain and a slowly dawning sense of horror. “When I asked you to marry me,” Shiro says slowly, “did you have it planned differently? In your head?” 

Curtis laughs. “No, I just knew I had to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

“We didn’t even get it on video,” Shiro says faintly. 

“It was perfect,” Curtis decides. “However it happened.” He presses a kiss against the top of Shiro’s head and then he goes. 

~~

Shiro barely waits for the front door to close before he’s up, throwing back the covers and getting to his feet. And it _hurts._ Like knives stabbing upward through the soles of his feet when he walks but he’s done this before. He grits his teeth, slaps the coffee mug off the table and lets it hit the floor where it breaks and spills. Childish, maybe, but it helps him focus enough to get to the dresser, to pull on clothes and grab his travel papers and wallet. 

He gets to the spaceport out of sheer will. Gamma quadrant, fine. He’ll fly there himself if he has to. 

It doesn’t come to that. There’s a figure coming off the ship, long ponytail over one shoulder. Keith smiles at him and it’s easy- so easy. 

Too easy. 

“You’re not Keith,” Shiro says. 

“What?” Not-Keith’s smile dips slightly. “It’s a surprise! I can’t stay long, but Curtis and Acxa helped me plan some time to catch up. You can show me around the place, and-”

Shiro tries to move his prosthetic but it hangs heavy and useless at his side. Instead he moves his human hand up and it pulls, like he’s dragging it against the serrated edge of a knife. His fingers brush Not-Keith’s hair. Not-Keith’s eyes are so soft, so warm. 

“That’s not how you look at me,” Shiro says. “You’re not him. What are you?” 

“Shiro-” Not-Keith begins, but then he stops, eyes wide. 

“That _is_ how I look at you,” Keith says mildly behind them. 

Shiro turns. He can feel the sweat beading at his temple from the effort. Every nerve in his body now seems to be singing, like he’s been electrocuted. Drowned. Burned alive. 

Keith - _his_ Keith - has his hands in his pockets and he’s smiling a little, in a way that seems to hurt him. 

“Is it?” Shiro asks. “I don’t know what’s happening, but everything is wrong.” 

Keith nods. “I knew you’d catch up, old timer. You always do.” 

“Punk.” Shiro coughs. His lungs spasm and it’s hard to even stay upright. 

“Are you ready now?” Keith asks. “Will you come with me? It has to be now.” 

“I go where you go,” Shiro promises with a mouth full of blood. 

And then everything is light. 

~~

“He’ll be fine,” Lance says. “He’s Shiro.” 

Keith is too tired to glare, and anyway, in Lance-speak that’s probably a sensible assessment and compliment rolled into one. 

“You could use a break,” Lance offers, dropping into the chair next to Keith. “You hardly left.” 

“I had to be here,” Keith says. 

“I get that.” Lance concedes. Then he hesitates. 

“What.” Keith tips his head back against the chair, looking at Lance out of the corner of his eye. “Spit it out.” 

“The Blades really polished your interpersonal skills, eh?” Lance gets to his feet. “Alright, then.” He balls his fists up at his side. “Lay it on me.” He squeezes his eyes closed. 

“What.” Keith repeats dully. 

“Hit me! Just the once, okay? And try not to hit the nose, I have a perfect slope and it might heal crooked. Or the chin. Or the lips.” 

“Why am I hitting you?” Keith asks skeptically. 

“I should have known. I should have _noticed._ I’m not a Shiro whisperer like you are, but I’m always giving you shit about being space-feral and then I didn’t even see what the hell was happening in front of my face. Some right hand man I turned out to be.” Lance sighs, then tenses again. “So go ahead and lay it on me!” 

“Huh.” Keith sits up a little straighter and gives Lance a once over. “Alright,” he agrees. “Close your eyes and brace yourself.” 

Lance obeys with an almost comical look of intensity on his face. Keith rises to his feet and wraps Lance into a hug. 

“Wha- Keith, what the hell-”

“Shhh, shhh,” Keith soothes, rubbing circles on Lance’s back. “We’re bonding.” 

“You are literally never gonna let that go, huh?” Lance gripes. 

“You call me a Shiro whisperer, but I wasn’t even here. You were all that they had. I think you did... good.” 

“Great pep talk, fearless leader,” Lance says, subdued. “No punishment then?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Keith says cheerfully. Then he leans in and plants a sloppy kiss on Lance’s cheek before releasing him. Lance, ever dramatic, collapses into a heap on the floor. He skuttles against the far wall of the tent, pointing accusingly at Keith who holds up a finger to his lips innocently, gesturing for silence, looking pointedly at where Shiro lies still. 

“What the fuck,” Lance whispers angrily. “I got Keith cooties.” 

“You know the best part?” Keith leans in with a smirk. “No one will _ever_ believe you.” 

Lance squeaks. “The _worst,_ ” he hisses, fleeing the room. 

Keith flops back into the chair with a grin. 

“Where’s mine?” 

Keith nearly falls out of the chair. 

Shiro, laying flat on his back on the cot, looks up at him with a pained half-smile. 

“You’re back! Wait, you saw that?” Keith’s elated expression falls into a scowl immediately. Shiro laughs weakly, wincing after. “Are you hurt? I’ll get Allura-”

Shiro’s fingers catch the bottom of Keith’s shirt, tugging weakly. Keith stops, then obeys, sinking onto the floor beside the cot. Shiro tugs again insistently and Keith scoots closer, hesitantly laying his head down on his arms close- _too damn close_ \- to Shiro’s face. Shiro reaches up, hand shaking a little with the effort, and touches Keith’s messy bangs. 

“It is you,” Shiro sighs, letting his hand fall back onto the cot. His eyes close for a moment. “What day is it?”

“April 6th, according to Pidge math,” Keith answers promptly. "Pretty sure it's a Friday," he adds as an afterthought. He’s not entirely sure why Shiro looks so pleased at that. “What do you remember?” 

“I don’t know which parts are real,” Shiro confesses. “Besides you.” Keith blushes and then Shiro coughs. 

“Here.” Keith snags a water pouch from a box beside the cot and holds it up for Shiro who manages a few blissful sips through the tiny straw. 

“That’s real,” Shiro says, relief coloring his voice. 

“Yeah,” Keith snorts. “Real gross. I don’t know how the pouches manage to taste like pennies _and_ vinegar at the same time.” 

“Everything always tasted how I wanted it to. Perfectly sweet or cheesy or whatever. Nothing terrible. Nothing… hurt.” 

“I’m sorry,” Keith says quietly. 

“That’s life, though. It hurts. It’s real.” Shiro sighs. “I’m tired. You talk.” 

“A bedtime story?” Keith asks, a smile in his voice. 

Shiro closes his eyes again but reaches out blindly until his hand falls on Keith’s elbow, still propped on the bed. “Sure, tell it like that.” 

He keeps his hand there and after a moment, Keith lays his head down on his arms again so that his cheek is just barely brushing against Shiro’s knuckles, breath ghosting along Shiro’s skin. It’s grounding. 

“Once upon a time,” Keith says, his voice going low and soothing, “there was a Hero.” Shiro snorts. “Hey, you want a story or not?” Shiro pats his arm absently. “Right. This Hero, he was all the things heroes usually are. Strong and brave or whatever.” 

“Good looking?” Shiro asks. 

“Stupidly,” Keith agrees. “Unfairly.” Shiro smiles. “Anyway. This Hero, he had a run in with a witch. He got away, though.” 

“Barely. And missing a few pieces,” Shiro adds. 

“ _He got away,_ ” Keith says again, emphatically. “And he had a lot of adventures with his crew of… pirates.” Shiro snickers. “What do you want from me, huh? Paladins then.”

“No, we’re pirates now.” Shiro corrects. 

“Damn right. So. Pirates.” Keith continues. “Good pirates. But the Hero, his luck ran out. Happens to the best of us, right? And he died.”

_Keith, I died._

“He died, and the witch sent someone else to take his place. A… a Fake Hero” Keith continues. “But that didn’t work out either, because even a Fake Hero can be a hero sometimes.” 

“Keith…” Shiro frowns. 

“Who’s telling this story?” Keith demands, but his voice is soft. “All the pirates were really sad. Then a miracle happened. The… uh… lion goddess of the sea, she loved the Hero so much that she kept his soul safe in the water.”

“Lion goddess of the sea.” Shiro repeats. “Black’ll like that.” 

“You can tell her later because I’m never doing this again,” Keith snarks. 

“Never?” Shiro asks. 

A beat. Keith continues.

“And there was a ritual to help the Hero find his way home.”

“By hijacking the body of the Fake Hero,” Shiro says. “Like a pirate would.” 

“Ah, but see, the Fake Hero was a little bit of a hero too, remember? And the Hero, he did some things that he thought were very bad, so. Really they weren’t that different after all.” 

Shiro’s hand tightens on Keith’s arm. “I’m the same?” He asks, devastated. 

“All the best parts stay the same,” Keith explains. “That’s how heroes work.” Shiro’s hand slides up along Keith’s cheek, pausing at the scar and tracing it up and down. Keith leans into it, eyes glitter bright. Stars, in the palm of his hand. 

“So the Fake Hero and the Hero come together. The end.”

“You’re skipping ahead,” Keith says disapprovingly. “You suck at bedtime stories, Shiro.” 

“My bad.” Shiro continues stroking Keith’s face. 

“It turned out that there was one more trick. See, the pirates all thought that the Hero’s curse was in his magical weapon.” 

Shiro’s hand stops moving. “It wasn’t?” He asks carefully. 

“Not all of it, no. There was a failsafe.” Keith shifts and a cool hand covers Shiro’s face briefly. “Here.” 

“My eyes.” Shiro breathes. 

“So when the pirates tried to save the Hero, he went into a deep, deep sleep. And in his sleep he dreamed a perfect world, peace instead of war and a happy ending for everyone.” 

_Jesus, Shiro, are you happy?_

“But the Hero wasn’t happy,” Shiro says. “Keith…” He tries to sit up, but Keith puts a hand against his chest, keeping him in the cot. 

“You need to rest,” Keith insists. “The Castle of Lions is gone and we don’t have healing pods anymore.” 

“So that part was real.” Shiro settles again. “The Galra invasion, all of that…?”

Keith shakes his head. “Pidge managed long range contact with her dad. The Garrison’s got their heads up their asses, but the war hasn’t reached them yet.”

“Why did I dream that? Why did my happy ending kill Adam? Why did it kill _Allura?_ ” Shiro sounds baffled. 

“Think about it,” Keith says, not moving his hand from where it rests over Shiro’s heart. “You’re too smart, Shiro. To keep you under, Haggar had to make adjustments. Making up with Adam was too complicated, so she killed him off. Being with us, with the paladin bond? You can’t fake that, so she ‘cut’ your tie to Black. Gave you your own space ship. Gave you somebody brand new to-to love.” Keith stutters the last part. 

“Keith…”

“She killed off Allura so it would be harder for her magic to reach you and bring you back to the rest of us. The most we could figure out to try was injecting someone familiar into your consciousness.”

“That _was_ you.” Shiro says softly. “You didn’t tell me any of this.” 

“We were worried about being too aggressive. Might have set her off worse. As it was, she hurt you whenever you started figuring things out.” Keith frowns, eyes stormy. Then they lighten. “But you’re so smart, I knew you just needed a little help.” 

“How many times am I going to need _a little help?_ ” Shiro asks darkly. “You’re always saving me.” 

“As many times as it takes,” Keith smiles, soft and warm. 

“That _is_ how you look at me,” Shiro realizes. “How long have you looked at me like that.” 

“Ah, well.” Keith laughs. “That’s been forever, Shiro.” He blinks slow amusement at Shiro’s shock. “You must have known a little bit.”

“How do you figure?” Shiro asks, feeling raw. 

“Because your Keith looked at you like that in there.” 

“He’s Not-Keith,” Shiro corrects. “ _You’re_ my Keith.” 

“I guess I am.” Keith agrees. “I don’t know how you thought I could look at you like _that_ and end up with someone else." 

“I just wanted you to be happy.” Shiro says helplessly. He's suddenly aware that he's sweaty and mostly naked under these blankets. He's a mess of pleased embarrassment, physical exhaustion and the ebb and flow of affection, between them. 

Both ways, it seems. 

“I’m happiest with you, though. I go where you go.” Keith grins. Shiro loves to see it, but it's getting harder and harder to stay awake. 

“Is that the end of the story?” Shiro asks sleepily. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I guess it is. Happily ever after, the end. You need to sleep more anyway.” 

“Where’s mine?” Shiro repeats. 

“Your what?” Keith asks, confused. 

“Kiss.” 

Keith flushes red. “That wasn’t- I was just messing with him.” 

“Story and a bedtime kiss, right?” Shiro asks, eyes closing. He taps his cheek. 

“You’re messing with me,” Keith says darkly. 

“I would never,” Shiro sighs. 

A beat. 

Keith leans in. 

Shiro turns his face at the last moment, catching Keith’s mouth with his. Keith’s lips are dry and Shiro is sure his stubble is probably unpleasantly scratchy against Keith’s smooth skin. 

Real. 

Shiro lets his head drop back onto the pillow and cracks one eye open. Keith, face scarlet, stares down at him, hand at his mouth and heart in his throat. 

“Night,” Shiro murmurs. 

(There’s time now)

**Author's Note:**

> LMK if you dug it <3
> 
> I am also on the [Twitter](https://twitter.com/zombie_kittiez)


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